


your burning sun

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac is in love with Combeferre's voice… and the rest of him, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your burning sun

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [AU prompt meme](http://kiyala.tumblr.com/post/96342034971) I'm doing on tumblr for #14. one’s blind and falls in love with the other’s voice (except it's less falling in love and more _being_ in love, whoops)

"Will you read to me?"

Combeferre goes still. The rustling of pages suddenly stop, and he breathes in slowly as he tries to figure out how to reply.

"I mean," Courfeyrac adds, "if you're not busy. If you're doing something—"

"It's not that," Combeferre replies gently. "It's just… you're much faster at reading braille than I am. I'm not sure you want to listen to me stumbling over words when you just want the story." 

"Then read from your book," Courfeyrac replies. "I'm not asking you because I have a burning need to know what happens in my story. I want to listen to you."

Combeferre huffs quietly, the way he always does when he's embarrassed. Courfeyrac can feel him shift, from where they're sitting with their sides pressed against each other. Combeferre opens his bag, then closes it again. 

"This is a pretty thick book," Combeferre warns, settling back down beside Courfeyrac.

"Good," Courfeyrac murmurs, smiling. Combeferre chuckles quietly beside him.

Combeferre takes a deep breath and begins reading. He starts with the title and the author, and Courfeyrac recognises the name because he knows it's one Combeferre loves.

"Are you rereading this book for, what, the tenth time?" he asks.

"Yes, I am," Combeferre replies, amused. "Are you going to let me read?"

"Right. Sorry." 

"No problem," Combeferre murmurs, beginning the first chapter. 

It's about a young boy who gets caught in a storm, just outside the castle where he works. Courfeyrac knows this chapter, just as he knows every chapter after, because Combeferre has told him about it, because he'd looked for a braille version and when he couldn't find it, he settled for the audiobook instead. He likes the book too, perhaps not as much as Combeferre does, but it's difficult to match Combeferre's fierce enthusiasm for things once they pique his interest. 

As he listens, Courfeyrac relaxes against Combeferre, head resting against his shoulder. At some point during chapter three, Combeferre wraps an arm around him without even pausing his narration, his voice deep and even and so wonderful that if Courfeyrac had to choose one sound to listen to for the rest of his life, he wouldn't even consider anything else.

He isn't even sure how long they sit on the couch for, but they get to chapter six where the elves start appearing and Combeferre reads faster, obviously excited, and Courfeyrac can't help his quiet laugh. Combeferre pauses, just as the Elf Queen's future consort sees her for the first time, and nudges Courfeyrac.

"What?" Courfeyrac asks. "Don't stop."

"You're laughing," Combeferre tells him. "Did I do something?"

"It's just the way you get excited," Courfeyrac replies. "It's infectious, you know? And it's—it's cute." 

He immediately wants to smack himself, but as that would only make him look worse, so he stays still and feels his heart sink with each passing second of silence.

"Cute," Combeferre says faintly. "You think I'm cute."

"I think that you're a lot of things, not just cute," Courfeyrac tells him, because if he's come this far, he might as well go all the way. "I think you're wonderful. You're intelligent, you're charming, you're kind—I think about you a lot. Sorry, I'm making it weird." 

"No," Combeferre assures him hurriedly. "No, not at all. I mean. I think you're pretty amazing yourself. You're always so happy, and you have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen."

"Do I?" Courfeyrac asks, his heart pounding. "What makes a smile beautiful?"

"The way it makes other people want to smile." Combeferre places his hand on Courfeyrac's shoulder. When Courfeyrac leans into the touch, Combeferre traces his smile with a thumb. "I'm always smiling when I'm with you."

"You've always sounded happy," Courfeyrac realises, and his cheeks might start hurting from just how much he's smiling. "You know, I've always loved your voice."

"Really?" 

"From the first time Enjolras introduced us," Courfeyrac tells him. "You were talking about the life cycle of atlas moths when we were approaching your table and I didn't know it was you then, I only knew that whoever it was had a wonderful voice, that they sounded so passionate about what they were talking about, and I needed their voice in my life more often."

"The life cycle of atlas moths," Combeferre repeats, embarrassed. "Really, of all the things to make a first impression—"

"It was a very good one," Courfeyrac finishes for him, taking Combeferre's fingers into his own and bringing them to his lips to kiss them. "Believe me."

Combeferre shuffles closer and Courfeyrac knows what to do without even waiting for him to ask. He tilts his face up and Combeferre cups his cheek properly, pulling him in, until their lips are against each other. Combeferre's lips are soft against Courfeyrac's, just the way he's imagined countless times in the past. Combeferre kisses gently, like he's afraid of overstepping his bounds. Courfeyrac kisses him harder, more insistently, until they're both breathless as they pull away. 

"That was my first kiss," Combeferre admits, in the private space they're sharing where their breath mingles and their noses are just slightly brushing against each other. 

It wasn't Courfeyrac's first, but he simply smiles, finding Combeferre's lips with his own before whispering, "It was a very good first kiss. I'm torn between making you get back to reading, or kissing you."

"We've both finished this book before," Combeferre says seriously. "Kissing is new. This whole thing is new. I mean—is it just kissing? Because if you just want to kiss, then I can—"

"Combeferre." Courfeyrac laughs fondly. "I want to kiss you, I want you to hold my hand, I want to listen while you play the cello, or when you read books for me—even ones that we both know cover to cover. I want to date you."

"Oh." Combeferre's voice is soft, quiet. "Good. That's—I mean, that's really good. That's what I want too."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm—no, I'm a little overwhelmed. In a good way. I'm happy."

Courfeyrac chuckles, holding Combeferre's face in his hands. "Would it help if I kissed you again?"

"Well…" Combeferre is smiling now, Courfeyrac can hear it in his voice. "I suppose there's no harm in trying."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from OneRepublic's Love Runs Out


End file.
